


Beautiful Martin Blackwood

by idareu2bme



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: AU, Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan Sims, Awkward Conversations, Body Image, Canon Asexual Character, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Martin, Insecure Martin Blackwood, Insecurity, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Weight Issues, body image issues, is this an AU or a future fic... ooohohohooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 01:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21153557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idareu2bme/pseuds/idareu2bme
Summary: Martin is feeling a bit insecure about the weight he carries around his middle. Jon thinks he's beautiful.





	Beautiful Martin Blackwood

Without consciously choosing to, Martin squirmed out from Jon's touch. He bit his lip guiltily when Jon pulled his hand away like it had been burned. They stared at each other for a long moment before Jon exhaled.

"Sorry, I thought..." said Jon looking unsure.

"No! _ I'm _ sorry!" stammered out Martin, the worried look on Jon's face finally loosening his tongue. "Of course you can touch me! I-I _ want _ you to! You... you can touch me anywhere." Martin stuttered and felt himself blush as he said it, but he made sure to keep eye contact with Jon while he did because this was important.

"Okay," said Jon after a beat. 

The shy little grimace-smile on his face had Martin's heart clenching in his chest. It wasn’t often that Jon touched him with any sort of intent and Martin’s whole body felt abuzz with excited anticipation.

Jon reached for him again. 

Martin winced and had to force himself not to squirm away again.

"Um," said Jon, pulling his hand back and even bodily moving away from Martin on the bed.

A frustrated whine left Martin's mouth without his permission, but it seemed his body was at all sorts of odds with him that night.

"Martin, I don't think you actually want--"

"I do," pleaded Martin. "I do, it's just... my stomach."

Jon's brow furrowed adorably. Martin wanted to scoop him up and hold him close. Too bad he was too busy being _ a dramatic idiot _ to act on it.

"What's wrong with your stomach?" asked Jon. “Are you unwell? hurt?”

"No, no. It's just not very ...uh, attractive?" said Martin, murmuring the last bit and looking down in embarrassment. He self-consciously curled in on himself and pulled at the blanket between them.

Martin glanced back up at Jon when there was no reply. Jon was looking at him silently, his brow furrowing further was his only response. 

"I'm sorry, Jon," said Martin, with a sigh. "I surprise you by getting undressed and into your bed and then, when you try to touch me, I get all weird. I promise I’m not _ trying _ to send mixed messages."

"It's fine, Martin," said Jon, but he didn't look fine, he looked confused and concerned and, to Martin’s horror, possibly a little hurt. "I don't want to touch you unless you want me to. I, of all people, would never force you to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

"I really _ do _ want you to, Jon," said Martin. "It's just, when you touched my stomach some part of my brain yelled 'fat!' and suddenly I’m filled with worry that you don't actually like what you see."

"That's ridiculous," snapped Jon in a tone that Jon hadn’t directed at him in a very long time.

Martin tensed.

"Sorry, sorry," said Jon before rubbing a hand over his face. "You're being vulnerable and open with me and I'm being..." Jon sighed and looked up at Martin from behind his flop of graying hair. "I _ did _ warn you that I wouldn’t be very good at this," he said apologetically.

"It's okay, Jon," said Martin. "I'll just--"

"Martin," cut in Jon, looking suddenly determined. "You... your body... your stomach... all of you... it doesn't matter."

"Wow, thanks," deadpanned Martin, but he gave Jon a small, teasing smile despite himself. He knew that whatever Jon was _ trying _ to say, it wasn't _ that _. Jon had demonstrated multiple times over the past year that Martin mattered very much to him.

"No, _ augh _," groaned Jon, dropping his head into his hands. "That's not what I meant."

Resolved to put the whole awkward situation behind them, Martin leaned across the bed to pull Jon's hands away from his face and give him a quick peck on the lips.

"I know," he said warmly. "You care about me despite my looks. My weight doesn't matter to you."

With that, Martin leaned back and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He reached down to grab his shirt off the floor. It had been a stupid idea to try to get nearly naked in Jon's bed and playfully surprise him --especially when that side of their relationship was mostly still unexplored given Jon being asexual and Martin painfully insecure. It had been a whim of an idea as the result of something Jon had said in passing the night before.

"Wait," said Jon. "Martin, that's only sort of right."

Martin paused where he hand his hands through the bottom of his shirt about to pull it on. He looked over at Jon still sitting halfway off the other side of the bed where he'd immediately banished himself when Martin had winced at his touch.

"Your weight doesn't factor in to whether or not I'm attracted to you," said Jon. "But it isn’t that I care about you _ despite _ your looks, that's... that's... there's nothing ' _ despite _' about you, Martin."

Martin's heart did a funny flip in his chest.

"It doesn't matter how aesthetically pleasing or conventionally attractive or... uh... _ sexy _ ...you are or aren't. I love you and your body is part of you so, by extension, I love your body. It wouldn't matter what shape, size, colour, sex, texture, --"

"Texture?” asked Martin laughingly before his eyes went wide and he froze. “Wait. Wait ..._ love _?"

"Yes, Martin," said Jon, his voice growing a touch raspier than usual. "Love."

"I love you, too, Jon," gasped out, Martin, a smile stretched across his face.

It was the first time they’d said that and Martin thought his heart would burst. They smiled stupidly at each other across the bed for a few moments before Jon cleared his throat.

"Martin, can I, uh, can I hug you? I won't touch your stomach, I just feel like--"

"Yes, please," said Martin and he had to quickly shake the shirt off his arms so he could open them for Jon who was climbing across the bed.

They wrapped their arms around each other, Jon half crouched over, half sitting in Martin’s lap. Martin let out a soft sigh of a breath when Jon leaned into him.

"And you are. Attractive, I mean," said Jon, his head tucked up under Martin's chin. "I'd love you either way and I'd want to touch you and be close with you either way, but, I do find you attractive -- I always have. The way you look, I find it very, ah, pleasing... especially when… when you're in my bed in just your pants, apparently." Jon cleared his throat sounding endearingly awkward. "Just... just so you know."

Martin felt something deep inside him that had been tight begin to unwind.

"Thank you, Jon," breathed Martin. "That helps a lot. I think it might still take some time for me to feel confident, but if you keep saying things like that... hopefully one day I'll get there."

"I hope so, too," said Jon before pressing a kiss to Martin's collarbone. It made Martin suck in a sharp breath having never had Jon's mouth there before.

"Okay?" asked Jon.

"More than,” whispered Martin, huskily.

Feeling brave, Martin took one of Jon's slender hands and placed it on his waist before laying back into the truly excessive mound of pillows on Jon’s bed. Jon followed so that he was sprawled on top of him, both his hands now pressing softly into either side of Martin's waist.

Martin shuddered in a strange mixture of embarrassment and enjoyment as Jon ran his hands up and down his sides.

"Hmm this is actually a bit stimulating," murmured Jon his voice carrying that familiar curious lilt it had when he found something particularly intriguing. "My being fully clothed while you're undressed."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, I think..." Jon pulled his arms up to prop himself on Martin's chest. He smiled down at Martin, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "I think I'd quite like a proper snog."

A short giggle tumbled from Martin's mouth before he threw his arms around Jon and pulled him down into a kiss. Jon hummed into the kiss, the vibrations making Martin's heart speed up.

Jon was definitely not wrong --as much as Martin knew he'd delight in more skin-to-skin contact, there was something _ thrilling _ about the contrast of being undressed while Jon was fully clothed. The material of Jon's shirt was great for grabbing and the buttons were a touch exciting as they pressed into Martin's bare chest, not to mention the rough texture of Jon's trousers against Martin's thighs... wait... _ texture _.

Martin couldn't help it. He broke their rather heated kiss to throw his head back and laugh.

"What?" asked Jon a confused smile gracing his handsome face.

"Texture," giggled Martin.

"Good grief, Martin," groaned Jon. "I was _ trying _. I told you I'm bad at relationship stuff."

Martin just laughed harder at the disgruntled look on Jon's face. He finally calmed down and looked up at Jon with a smile. Jon's face softened.

"You're beautiful, Martin Blackwood," Jon said softly.

Martin exhaled.

"I thought you said you were bad at this," he said before leaning up to kiss Jon again. 

Martin smiled into the kiss. So, the whole surprise had been a good idea after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> My good friend, [Kris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune), showed me a screencap of a [really cute tweet](https://idareu2bme.tumblr.com/post/188550728926) and was like 'what if this was Martin and Tim' and I was like 'ERMAGERSH YOU GOTTA WRITE IT'. Buuut then, that night, I couldn't get the idea of how much more awkward Jon would be in a similar situation out of my head. So, I decided to write this little thing. Martin is me in this scenario and, honestly, I actually found writing this little ficlet really empowering and cathartic.


End file.
